


there is nothing like returning

by primaveris



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Character Study, Colonialism, Historical Hetalia, Imperialism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:53:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26530051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/primaveris/pseuds/primaveris
Summary: south africa hasn’t always been the rainbow nation.
Kudos: 7





	there is nothing like returning

**beginnings.**

South Africa was once birth.

South Africa once stood on ancient highlands and watched his people on fields and mountains of green and red and umber. The vast, never-ending land did not belong to him, but he knew it was special, as he was.

There were more like him, in other faraway places, but he did not talk to them, for there was peace and there was sustenance and that was all that he needed. But a selfish part of him wondered if he could get close to them, out of a need that was not for his people but only for himself.

There was one whose eyes and smile lightened the day even when the warm sun burned high. South Africa could not let go of an unnamed feeling that stammered, shyly, in his heart.

South Africa once fought, sang, cultivated, created.

Before he was South Africa, Nguni was a great many things.

**~~exploration~~ / exploitation. **

One time a boy lands on his shores and there he raises a cross. He soon departs. When South Africa asks him where he is leaving for, the boy answers, _to the other side of the world._

Another time arrives a young man, and he soon departs, but his people stay. They stay, and they fight and they sing and cultivate and create. Because they fight, South Africa must fight, too.

The last time one of their kind appears by his coast South Africa fights, and he falls, and the man pulls him by the arm and brings him to a place South Africa does not comprehend and the man promises him _the light of civilization shall reach these lands._

South Africa isn’t allowed to fight, to sing, to cultivate and to create any longer.

**design.**

The light of civilization burns South Africa’s skin. It burns his skin, his hair, his eyes. But not his heart.

He is pulled by the arm and made to stand before a mirror. South Africa does not recognize the reflection, but South Africa understands.

Still– the creeds and melodies and tongues and colours that he once knew stay locked in South Africa’s heart, so that the light of civilization won’t burn them away, too.

**ends.**

His people sing his independence but South Africa does not sing with them. Something is not quite right but he does not know what it is. He cannot breathe.

The man who was once a boy, whose eyes and smile once lightened the day even when the sun burned high, takes up arms. He fights against the man who raised a cross on South Africa’s shores, when he, too, was a boy.

There is another boy, who babbles as if he were running out of time, but South Africa does not dwell too much on him, for he reminds South Africa far too much of himself.

Soon, there is only war. South Africa does not know what he fights for, nor does he know who he fights against. Until the man whom he once loved aims his weapon at him and his eyes don’t lighten the day anymore, and finally South Africa knows.

The war is tearing his land and his heart apart.

Slowly, South Africa begins to crumble.

**beginnings.**

South Africa crumbles, and he arises.

South Africa stands on ancient highlands and watches his people on fields and mountains of green and red and umber. The land belongs to him, for it is special, as he is.

He walks along rivers and lakes that he dearly missed and he recognizes himself on the reflection of the waters once again.

South Africa’s heart is a lamb trying to stand and sprint. To be a nation is to build and destroy and rebuild. He will fight, sing, cultivate and create.

The warm sun rises, and he can breathe, at last.

South Africa is a great many things.

South Africa is rebirth.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from a quote by Nelson Mandela. “There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered.” Thought it’d fit the themes of the fic.
> 
> “South African identity”, if such an expression actually exists, is a layered and multifaceted concept that is still being researched to this day. The struggle to find and define an identity, both during and after the post-Apartheid era, between the many Black, Coloured and White groups, is something that I had to grapple with in order to work on my RSA OC, who must represent so many people as a single individual.
> 
> To help me translate the way colonialism and acculturation has affected personal, local, and national identity, I turned to Maaf and picked the premise, taking a few liberties of my own with the concept. South Africa, the nation-tan, goes through a deculturalization process, very similar to the way other nations in Maaf (like Canada, New Zealand and Australia) go through. You may interpret it any way you like.


End file.
